Faulty Premise
by Mia Cooper
Summary: Chakotay takes advantage of his weekly dinners with the Captain to conduct an experiment.
1. 1 Pheromones

**Notes**

I've been serving up a steady diet of angst and smut lately. Think of this as the sorbet course.

Starts just after _Elogium_ and goes through to just after _Maneuvers_.

 **Disclaimer**

Paramount created the characters. Fanfiction makes them do things their parents probably wouldn't approve of.

=/\\-

 **Faulty Premise**

 _by Mia Cooper_

 **1\. Pheromones**

" _Good work, Commander._ _In the future, if I have any questions about mating behaviour, I'll know where to go."_

=/\=

 **Stardate 48928.7**

"Face it, Captain. You can't deny it."

She set her glass of wine on the coffee table with a firm _clack_ and treated him to a category-three glare. "Excuse me, Commander?"

"You heard me."

"Oh, I think you'll find I _can_ deny it." Captain Janeway crossed her arms and notched up the glare. "And I do. Most voficerous … vocific … vo- _cif_ -er-ously," she finally enunciated, turning her glare onto the glass of wine that was to blame for her uncooperative tongue. And, _clearly_ , for the turn this dialogue had taken, she decided.

Of course, her outrageous conduct on the bridge that afternoon when she'd teased him about his expertise in mating behaviour had _nothing_ to do with it.

Chakotay snickered. "Prove it," he challenged.

"Huh?" She'd already lost the thread of the conversation.

"You deny that you think I'm attractive. Prove it."

She stared at him. "How am I supposed to do that?"

"Well, for starters, you could try getting through a five-minute conversation with me without looking at my lips."

Her gaze instantly darted to the offending lips, watched them widen into a grin, and snapped back up to Chakotay's eyes. "That was not a fair test," she protested.

"Well, you're the scientist," he answered, leaning forward to set his wineglass next to hers. "Surely you have some suggestions on how to prove a theory."

"Or in this case, _disprove_ it," she shot back.

"So you admit you think I'm attractive?"

"What? That's not what I …" Kathryn sputtered as his grin broadened. "Stop doing that and let me think."

"By all means."

"All right." She got up off the couch and began to pace. "A scientist starts with observable phenomena from which she constructs a hypothesis."

"For example," Chakotay put in, "you look at my lips a lot, which leads me to hypothesise that you find them – and by extension, me – attractive."

Kathryn sent him a dark look. "And then the scientist devises a series of experiments to test the hypothesis."

Chakotay's grin grew even wider. "I assume these experiments are carried out repeatedly in order to collect sufficient data to prove – or disprove – the supposition?"

"Of course. Only repeatable and verifiable data allow the scientist to draw an accurate conclusion."

"Of course," he agreed mildly. "So, Dr Janeway, what experiments do you propose we conduct to gather this data?"

She stopped pacing and stared at him. "I don't, um…"

"I have a suggestion," he cut her off, standing up and lazily moving toward her. She backed up a little and he stopped moving a few paces from her. "We could start with the basics."

"Basics?"

He stepped a little closer and she moved back involuntarily. "You obviously enjoy looking at my lips," he said in a reasonable voice. "Scientists approve of empirical data, so why not gather some using tactile methods?"

"Tactile?" Kathryn mentally slapped herself; parroting his words back at him was making her sound like a half-wit. She drew herself up straighter. "Explain, Commander."

He moved in closer, and she was so busy warily watching his face that she didn't realise until too late that he'd reached out and taken her hand. He lifted it to his lips and placed her fingers gently against his mouth.

"It's a well-known scientific fact," he answered, as she tried not to shiver at the sensation of his lips moving under her fingers, "that tactile contact with someone you find attractive causes a measurable physiological response. Elevated heart rate and respiration, increased blood flow to the epidermis, dilation of the pupils…"

He released her hand and she snatched it away, hiding both hands behind her back and lifting her chin.

"Commander," she warned him.

"Hmm." He cocked his head to the side. "It's possible I'm observing some early results. Too soon to tell for sure though, wouldn't you say, Captain? I suggest we modify the variables."

"And how, exactly, do you propose we do that?" Was that her voice – breathy and low?

"I suggest using an alternate form of tactile interface." He lowered his gaze to her mouth. "After all, lips are designed to be pressed against another person's lips. Wouldn't you agree?"

She retreated a couple more steps. He followed. She stumbled slightly as she moved away and found herself backed up against the bulkhead.

"This is inappropriate –"

"I've never known you to back away from a challenge, Captain," he said smoothly. He was barely inches from her, looking down at her, smiling. "Of course, if you can think of another scientific method of disproving my theory, feel free to offer it."

She couldn't help looking at his lips again.

He cocked an eyebrow at her.

"I'm _thinking_ ," she snapped.

Chakotay lifted his hand and brushed his thumb across her lower lip.

She shivered, and his fingers moved to cradle her face, tilting it upward.

"Any alternative suggestions, Captain?" he murmured.

Her breath came faster as his mouth neared hers. She parted her lips. So close… just an inch or two closer, and they'd be -

Slipping out from under his arm, she moved quickly to the opposite side of the room, hands clasped behind her back.

"This experiment is over, Commander," she said primly. "Good night."

Chakotay straightened up, his smile small and knowing, and ambled toward the door. "Sweet dreams, Captain," he tossed over his shoulder as the door slid shut behind him. Kathryn sank onto the couch before her trembling knees could betray her.

Mark smiled accusingly at her from the framed photograph on her desk.

=/\=

 **Stardate 48947.8**

"No, thank you, Commander." Kathryn placed a hand over her wineglass in answer to Chakotay's silent offer of a refill.

She had already determined to keep her wits about her tonight; she had no intention of repeating last week's near slip-up. Her first officer's presence was amply disruptive to her equilibrium without the added danger of intoxication, as she'd proven last time they had dinner in her quarters.

Chakotay settled back against the couch. "So, any lingering after-effects of your encounter with the spatial distortion, Captain?"

"You mean aside from the three-day headache? No, I'm fighting fit, thank you."

"Glad to hear it. You had me worried for a while there."

"Yes, well, hearing the Captain speaking in tongues must have been quite disconcerting."

"Oh, I don't know. It's a shame the universal translator wasn't functioning. Who knows what you might've let slip in your delirium?"

"You already have Voyager's command codes," she said archly. "What else could I reveal that could possibly be of interest?"

"I don't think you really want me to answer that, Captain."

He was smirking. Kathryn flushed, pulling her legs up beneath her on the couch. "I can assure you, it wouldn't have been what you seem to want me to say."

"What is it I want you to say?"

"You know what."

"I'm not sure I do. Perhaps you'd feel better if you told me."

"You want me to tell you that I'm attracted to you," she snapped, annoyed.

His grin made her madder. "Why, thank you, Captain."

"That's not – I didn't mean –" She stopped, furious. How did he manage to get to her like that?

"Are you really going to deny it again?"

"Of course I am!"

"Then I have no choice," he sighed dramatically. "After all, you were the one who insisted on proving it by repeated experimentation."

" _Dis_ proving it," she corrected. "And – wait, what? What are you talking about?"

"Application of scientific method, of course, Dr Janeway," he answered, sounding eminently reasonable. "Collection and verification of a set of data in order to draw a supportable conclusion."

She stared at him.

"As I recall, the last time we ran this experiment," he shifted closer to her on the couch, "we were just about _here_ …"

He raised a hand to her face, his thumb stroking gently over her lower lip. He bent slowly toward her. Kathryn felt herself begin to tremble.

How had this situation got so out of control?

And why wasn't she stopping him?

Just as she parted her lips, waiting breathlessly for his kiss, he murmured, "Enjoying the experiment, Captain?"

Her eyes widened and her hands came up to his chest, shoving him away and scrambling off the couch.

"Get out, Commander," she said, low and deadly.

"Aye, Captain," Chakotay answered, unfolding himself from the couch.

He had the good sense not to let her see him smiling as he walked out the door.

Kathryn stormed into her bedroom, kicked off her boots, then picked them and flung them with violence at the bulkhead. What was _wrong_ with him? Chakotay was fully cognisant of Starfleet fraternisation policies. What made him think that it was all right to contravene them, as if this were some kind of adolescent game?

More to the point, what was wrong with _her,_ that she'd almost let him do it?

That night, she slept with the portrait of Mark on the table beside her bed, so that it would be the first thing she saw when she woke.

=/\=

 **Stardate 48983.1**

For two weeks, Kathryn managed to evade the weekly dinners with her first officer. She avoided private conferences with him in her ready room and, in any case, on duty he was unfailingly professional and circumspect. She saw him occasionally in the mess hall or the corridors, but sailed past him with a polite and distant nod. He commed her once or twice to ask her to the holodeck but she begged off each time, pleading too much paperwork. As they were in a quiet sector of space and Chakotay generally did most of her paperwork for her, she reasoned that his letting her off the hook was his way of apologising for his behaviour.

Then Neelix threw a Christmas party for the crew.

"Merry Christmas, Captain," Tom Paris called, as she entered the holodeck, then shoved a glass of something fragrant into her hand that most definitely wasn't syntheholic.

Neelix came bustling up, his orange whiskers trembling with excitement. "Captain! So wonderful to see you here. And might I add, you look _stunning_ tonight. That dress suits you _perfectly_! And I'm told red is a traditional Christmas colour, so I'm pleased to see you've gone with -"

" _Thank_ you, Neelix," Kathryn hastily interrupted him, trying not to blush at his exuberance. "You two have done a wonderful job," she added, glancing around at the holographic ski lodge, complete with comfortable lounges and open fireplace. There was a dance floor and a fully-stocked bar, and a trestle table laden with a variety of traditional dishes was pushed against the far wall.

"Thanks, Captain," Tom answered. "And now, if you'll excuse me, I need another drink."

"Take it easy, Lieutenant," she called after him. "You're on duty in the morning."

Neelix rushed off, mumbling about getting more food brought down from the mess hall, and Kathryn sipped her drink as she wandered about the room. The taste of rum was thick in the back of her throat, and she reflected that she really would need to listen to her own advice tonight and watch her drinks. Knowing Tom, he'd spiked the punch as well. In fact, judging by the loose-hipped dancing and loud laughter a number of her crew were already indulging in, he'd probably spiked the canapés.

She leaned against the mantel and watched the frivolity around her. Harry Kim was on a sofa, nervously edging away from Jenny Delaney. B'Elanna Torres, in a svelte black dress, was gesturing excitedly over a PADD with Joe Carey and Susan Nicoletti; Kathryn figured it was probably the warp core efficiency report, and wondered how long B'Elanna would be able to leave Vorik in charge of her beloved Engineering tonight. Tom, Neelix and Kes were busy at the food table. Tuvok was conspicuously absent, having volunteered for extra bridge duty tonight. That meant all of her senior staff were accounted for, except for one.

"Feliz Navidad, Captain," murmured a warm voice in her ear.

"Well, I guess that accounts for you too, then," she muttered, turning to face Chakotay.

"Sorry?"

"I was just wondering where you were."

He smiled, deepening the dimples that made her fingers twitch with the urge to touch them. It really was incredibly irritating.

"Missing me?" he asked.

"Just making sure you weren't shirking your duty," she retorted.

"Never." He offered her his arm. "May I escort you to the banquet table, Captain?"

"And what part of your duty would that be, Commander?"

"It's a part of every first officer's duty to take care of his captain. That includes making sure she eats." He dipped his head a little closer to her ear. "And making sure she enjoys herself."

His silky tone of voice hinted at methods of enjoyment she was most definitely not free to indulge in with her first officer. Kathryn stiffened a little. "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of my own enjoyment, Commander."

She wanted to kick herself the moment it came out of her mouth.

"Oh, I have no doubt of that." The low amusement in his tone made her back stiffen further. "But sometimes, it's more fun to let someone else take care of that for you, too."

Kathryn stepped out of his reach and glared.

Unrepentant, Chakotay grinned at her, offering his arm again. "But maybe for now, we should stick with dinner."

Hesitantly, she looped her arm through his.

"Besides," he said quietly, as he led her to the trestle table, "we wouldn't want to skip too many steps in the experiment, would we? Changing too many variables at once might skew the results."

Kathryn's steps faltered. She'd been hoping her chilly attitude over the past two weeks would make him give up on his stupid experiment. Apparently she'd underestimated his dedication to proving his theory.

Nervously, she drained her glass, barely noticing when Neelix sidled up and refilled it.

Chakotay stuck close to her side as the evening slid into night. Occasionally she would feel the brush of his shoulder against hers, a warm hand touching the small of her back as he guided her to a seat, the soft tickle of his breath against her ear as he whispered to her. It was unsettling, and she found herself unable to do more than pick at the food on her plate. Her glass, however, seemed to empty and refill itself with alarming regularity.

At 2200, deciding it was time to leave so the crew could get on with letting their hair down, she stood to bid her farewells and almost overbalanced.

"Easy," murmured Chakotay, a steadying hand under her elbow. "I think I'd better see you home, Captain."

Kathryn let out an uncaptainly snicker. "A first officer's work is never done."

Chakotay manoeuvred her toward the holodeck exit. "Fortunately, Captain, I get a great deal of satisfaction out of my job."

"Lucky you. I find myself quite frustratingly unsatisfied," she blurted, then clapped a hand over her mouth in horror.

Chakotay tried hard not to laugh as they exited the holodeck and made their weaving way toward the turbolift. "Deck three," he ordered.

Kathryn leaned against the turbolift wall, closing her eyes, then abruptly straightened up as her head spun and her centre of gravity shifted alarmingly. "That wasn't a good idea," she muttered.

"Lean on me," Chakotay advised. The 'lift swished to a stop and she let him loop his arm under her shoulders and guide her to the door of her quarters.

Her entry code seemed to have changed; after her third attempt to open her door, the computer beeped rudely and informed her that she'd exceeded her passcode attempts and deactivated the door panel. A command override would now be required to unlock it. Slouching against the door jamb, she stared up at her first officer in frustration. "What's wrong with this thing?"

Chuckling, he leaned over her – involuntarily she inhaled, catching a delightful waft of some kind of spicy, wintery scent she assumed was the soap he'd used, which sparked off a disconcerting series of mental images of him using that soap – and keyed a series of numbers into the panel. The door slid open.

"Well," she said brightly. "Thank you for escorting me home, Commander."

"It was my pleasure, Captain."

He was blocking the doorway, his hand braced against the jamb.

She squinted up at him. His gaze was locked on her face, and his eyes looked darker than usual. There was no sign of the dimples.

Her pulse picked up.

He bent his head and she knew he was going to kiss her. Worse, she was going to let him. Her lips parted, her gaze darting to his mouth. She tilted her face up and closed her eyes …

… and felt the warm, fleeting impression of lips against her cheek.

He drew back. She opened her eyes and stared at him. "What kind of a goodnight kiss was that?" she demanded, too incensed to be embarrassed.

The dimples were back. "The kind a gentleman gives when a lady is too drunk to stand on her own two feet."

He straightened, moving away to allow her access to her quarters.

"Besides," he added, "it wouldn't have been a fair test. When you finally admit you're attracted to me, I want to be sure you're in complete control of your faculties."

Her mouth dropped open in outrage as he sauntered away.

"Gentleman, my ass," she muttered, stomping into her quarters and directly into a very cold shower.

As she fell into bed she accidentally knocked the photograph of Mark off her bedside table, but she figured it wasn't moving anywhere and she could put it back in its rightful place in the morning.


	2. 2 Hallucinations

**2\. Hallucinations**

" _I don't think you've missed me. Someone else is in your thoughts now."_

=/\=

 **Stardate 49043.4**

"I'm curious, Commander." Tucking her legs beneath her on the couch and cradling her second glass of wine in both hands, Kathryn glanced over at her first officer. "You never did tell me what the Bothan made you see."

Chakotay smiled at her over the rim of his glass. "No, I didn't."

When it became clear he wasn't intending to continue, she looked away. "And you'd rather keep it that way. I understand."

"For now. What about you, Captain? What was in your vision?"

"Oh." She blushed, fidgeting with the stem of her wineglass. "Uh, well, I saw my fiancé."

"I'm guessing it wasn't a particularly pleasant experience," Chakotay said, watching her.

Kathryn thought about the accusations 'Mark' had thrown at her, and wished she'd never raised the subject. She just hadn't been able to contain her curiosity over Chakotay's vision. And now she'd probably never know what he'd seen.

She wondered why it seemed so important.

"Earth to Captain Janeway."

She blinked. "I'm sorry, Commander. I guess I'm more tired than I thought."

"Maybe we should call it a night, then. I'd hate to be responsible for you losing any more sleep."

"No, stay," she said impulsively, then wondered what on earth had possessed her.

She'd been finding solitude unpalatable ever since the Bothan posing as Mark had accused her of infidelity, and had been trying not to analyse her discomfort too deeply. She hadn't lied when she'd insisted that she'd been faithful to Mark, had she? And when Mark had kissed her in the turbolift and she'd felt nothing, it was only because it wasn't really Mark, wasn't it?

And her lost sleep had nothing to do with Chakotay, anyway, did it?

Chakotay was smiling at her. "If you're sure, I'll stay."

"Of course I'm sure," she said brightly. "I promised you dessert, didn't I? And I always deliver."

 _Oh, God_ , she cringed internally as Chakotay's dimples appeared. Why did everything that came out of her mouth when he was around sound like a proposition?

She jumped up from the couch so he wouldn't see the red flush creeping up from under her collar. "Two bowls of coffee ice cream," she ordered the replicator. By the time the food materialised, she figured she'd managed to get herself back under control. Turning with the dishes in hand, she found Chakotay had moved silently from the couch and was now standing so close that she almost dropped ice cream on his boots.

"I, uh, excuse me, Commander," she stammered.

His hands covered hers, steadying the dishes. "Let me help with those."

"Thank you," she said, cursing the hitch in her breath.

After a moment, during which her pulse picked up and she started to tremble, he said, "You'll have to let go of the bowls first."

"Oh." Kathryn blushed again, forcing herself to slide her hands out from beneath his and step sideways.

They returned to the couch. Chakotay handed Kathryn a bowl, and she made certain their fingers didn't touch as she took it. They ate in silence. Licking the last drops from her spoon, she glanced over at him and found him watching her, his eyes darker than she'd ever seen them.

Her heart started thumping in double-time.

Then the devil inside her whispered, _payback time._

Leaning toward him, she dipped her finger into the melted remains of his ice cream and, without moving away, raised her gaze to his as she sucked her finger slowly into her mouth.

She watched his lips part a little as he stared at her.

"Mmm," she sighed throatily. "So good."

Chakotay swayed toward her, and Kathryn slipped gracefully to her feet, carrying the dishes to the replicator.

"Well," she said in her usual voice, "it's getting late, Commander."

It took him a minute to stand up, and when he did, she noticed with a self-satisfied smirk that he was hunching over slightly. She expected him to head for the door. Instead, he walked over to where she stood by the replicator.

He rested one hand against the wall by her head and leaned in close, so close she could feel his breath on her cheek. Her eyes widened.

"Thanks for dinner, Captain." His voice was low and husky. "I especially enjoyed dessert, not to mention your unique way of eating it."

His gaze dropped to her lips, and Kathryn started to tremble.

He dipped his head, just barely brushing his lips against the corner of her mouth. Then he straightened up and ambled toward her door.

 _That didn't go as planned_ , Kathryn thought, sinking to the floor on shaky legs.

=/\=

 **Stardate 49100.4**

Lieutenant Tuvok had been on a supply mission for two weeks, enabling Kathryn to order her first officer to take command of Beta shift in Tuvok's absence. Consequently, they'd missed their last two Sunday dinners, a happenstance that had done wonders for her equilibrium.

Now, however, Tuvok was back, and Chakotay had returned to Alpha shift, freeing up his Sunday night schedule.

She'd need a new excuse to avoid dinner with him tonight.

"Exercise," she informed him when they entered the turbolift at shift change and he asked her what time he should report to her quarters.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm going to the holodeck. Doctor's orders. Apparently I'm working too hard and not getting sufficient rest, nutrition or cardiovascular activity."

"Well, skipping dinner isn't going to help on the second point. But I can help you with the third requirement."

"I beg your pardon, Commander?" She turned to face him, steely-eyed, not a hair out of place.

"Boxing," he answered calmly, his eyes amused. "One of the best forms of cardiovascular exercise a body can get. 1800 hours in Holodeck Two, Captain. I'll take you through a few basic moves. Nothing too taxing for a beginner like yourself."

"Basic?" Kathryn drew herself upright, eyes flashing fury. " _Beginner?_ "

"It's all right, Captain. I'll go easy on you."

She folded her arms and gave him a category-five glare. "You most definitely will _not_ , Commander."

Chakotay grinned. The turbolift swished to a stop at her floor, and he swept out an arm as if giving her permission to disembark. "See you in half an hour, Captain."

She fumed as she stripped off her uniform and pulled on leggings and a tank top. Lacing up her trainers, she stomped to the holodeck. She was a few minutes early, so she decided to call up Chakotay's boxing program and get started. He'd walk in and find her already working with the bag. She'd show him _beginner_.

"Your form could use some work," she heard, ten minutes later.

Furious, she aimed a few hard punches at the bag and then turned to face him, gloved hands on her hips. "Is that so?"

Chakotay ambled over to her, winding a wrap over his left hand. "Your stance is planted and you're swinging from the shoulders. You'll injure yourself in no time. Let me show you."

He nudged her gently out of the way and took up his position in front of the bag. "Like this, see? Feet shoulder-width apart. You're right-handed, so keep your left foot forward and your stance light, up on your toes. Try it," he encouraged, moving aside.

Kathryn blew an errant strand of hair from her forehead and moved in, taking up the position he'd shown her.

"Good. Now, angle your chin down and keep your gloves tucked up under your cheekbones and your elbows in."

"What for?"

"It's the basic defensive position. Easy to guard your face."

Kathryn raised an eyebrow at him. "Guard my face? Should I be expecting somebody to hit me, Commander?"

He smirked. "You're not nearly advanced enough for sparring yet, Captain. I'm just teaching you the basics, remember?"

Outraged, she brought her hands up as he'd demonstrated. "I'll have you know I took the required martial arts classes at the Academy, Commander. And I can hold my own in a fight."

"I don't doubt it." She could hear the grin in his voice. "But with my help, you might even win a few."

She turned a glare on him.

He stepped away, smiling. "Okay, give it a try."

She slammed her right fist into the bag with unnecessary force and was about to follow up with her left when she felt his hand on her shoulder.

"What?" she demanded.

"Tell me how it felt when you threw that punch."

She rolled her shoulder irritably, dislodging his hand. "Fine."

"Uh-huh." He sent her an even look. "I'm guessing it jarred your shoulder."

"What of it?" she huffed.

"You need to turn your hips into the punch. It'll ease the strain on your shoulder and arm, and you'll get a lot more power that way. Watch."

Again, he manoeuvred her out of the way with a bump of his hip. She watched as he threw a few jabs at the bag and then stepped back.

"Your turn."

Bouncing lightly on her toes, she swivelled her right hip as she drew back her fist, then turned her hips and shoulders as she swung her arm forward. The bag flew backward twenty centimetres further than she'd managed to move it with any of her earlier efforts. "Oh," she said, surprised, and pleased despite herself.

"Not bad," he approved. "Show me again."

An hour later Chakotay was finally satisfied with her technique, and Kathryn was shaking with muscle fatigue. "You were right," she admitted grudgingly as she pulled off her gloves and sank onto a bench. "This _was_ a good workout. I'm exhausted."

He sat opposite and picked up one of her hands, unwinding the wraps she'd worn under her gloves. "We could make it a regular date, if you like," he offered. He held her hand between his own, thumbs lightly stroking her palm.

That was starting to feel a little too good, so Kathryn carefully pulled her hand away. "Are you sure you and the Doctor aren't in league to con me into getting regular exercise, Commander?"

Chakotay took her other hand, slowly unwrapping it. "Think of it as an efficient use of our time, Captain. You get a workout, and afterwards I cook you dinner and we catch up on ship's reports."

"Dinner?" She looked up at him warily.

"The Doctor's second requirement, remember?"

"Right," she muttered. He was massaging her now-naked hand, and she was starting to have trouble concentrating on the conversation. "Far be it from me to defy a medical directive."

"Good." Chakotay stood, still holding her hand, and she rose from bench as well. "My quarters, half an hour, then."

She hadn't realised he'd meant to start tonight. "I can't," she blurted. "Too much work to do."

"You can just as easily work in my quarters," he persuaded. "And this way I can be sure you'll actually eat something."

She cast about for an excuse. He was still holding her hand, and standing very close to her, and she couldn't seem to think about anything other than how much she wanted to lean forward and lick his chest.

"And besides, I need your scientific opinion." The timbre of his voice dropped lower as he stepped a little closer into her space, forcing her to tilt her head and meet his gaze. "I have some ideas about introducing a new variable to our experiment parameters."

She wanted so much to say yes.

That thought gave her the strength to pull her hand from his and step away from him. "Not tonight, Commander," she said, lifting her chin and giving him her best command smile. "Thanks for the lesson, and I'll see you on the bridge tomorrow."

Hours later, having replicated some soup after her boxing lesson, Kathryn had dutifully managed to fulfil the Doctor's second and third requirements for good health. Unfortunately his first order - to get a good night's sleep - was one she found herself quite unable to follow.

=/\=

 **Stardate 49138.9**

"You've been practicing," Chakotay said approvingly, watching her work at the bag. "But you're still not swivelling enough. Let me show you."

Kathryn lowered her hands, and he stepped in close, one big hand on each of her hips. She jumped.

"Relax," he admonished. "You need to keep your body loose and light. Let your shoulders drop – you're carrying too much tension in them."

She did her best to obey. It wasn't easy; her whole body had tensed up when he touched her.

"Better." Chakotay stepped back. "Try again."

After half an hour of bag work, he stopped her.

"Ready to try hitting a moving target?"

Kathryn wiped the sweat from her brow. "If by moving target you mean yourself, Commander, then yes. I'm ready."

Chakotay grinned. "Go get in the ring."

She ducked under the ropes and bounced lightly on her toes. Chakotay followed her in.

"These are Thai pads," he said, holding up a pair of small padded blocks he'd strapped to his hands. "When I hold them here" – he demonstrated – "it means you throw jabs or straights. Here, you throw an uppercut, and here I want you to throw hooks. Ready?"

Kathryn nodded and brought her gloves up, tucking her chin as he'd taught her. She followed the changing positions of his hands, firing quick punches as he'd directed.

"Good," he approved after a few minutes. "Want to try something a little more challenging?"

"Is this the part where I get to punch you in the face?"

"You can try," he grinned.

He pulled off the Thai pads and called for gloves, strapping them on efficiently.

"Okay," he said, stepping up to her. "Keep your guard up and remember to stay on your toes. We'll go easy."

And with that, he let fly a light jab, tapping her gloves, and bounced back.

Kathryn pushed forward off her toes and loosed a jab-hook combination. Chakotay blocked it easily.

"Nice," he said, then stepped lightly to the side and tapped her in the ribs.

"Hey," she complained.

"Just keeping you interested," he teased. "You can guard against body blows by bringing your elbow in tight to your side. Why don't you try to hit me now? I'll just block."

"I thought you'd never ask," she muttered.

After fifteen minutes of trying to hit him, she'd landed a couple of light blows to his chin and ribs – although she suspected he'd let her – and she was heaving for breath, her limbs shaky with fatigue. Chakotay looked like he'd barely broken a sweat.

"Had enough?"

She nodded.

"Great. Go stretch out, then hit the shower."

"Yes, Coach," she mocked.

In answer he tapped her chin lightly with his glove. "I'll expect you in my quarters in forty-five minutes. You need a nutritious meal and a good night's sleep, and I'm going to make sure you get them."

Kathryn raised her eyebrows at him as she ducked under the ropes, pulling off her gloves. "And how exactly do you think you're going to manage your second directive, Commander?"

He gave her a full-dimpled grin. "Oh, I have a few ideas, Captain. But, as I said, we're sticking with the basics."

She tried for a glare, but she was too tired to ratchet one up with any intensity. And in any case, she admitted to herself as she propped her leg against the wall and leaned into a stretch, she wasn't hating their banter. She wasn't hating it at all.

She also wasn't hating the way his gaze roamed appreciatively over her body as she arched, stretching her arms above her head.

Forty minutes later she stood naked and refreshed in front of her closet, wondering what on earth to wear. She really didn't want to get back into her uniform, although she knew she probably should. All her dresses were either too formal or too … accessible, she decided, and she wanted to avoid any suggestion that this was a date rather than a working dinner. In the end she shrugged on a pair of loose, low-slung pants and a tank top, figuring she might as well be comfortable. And it wasn't as though she wanted to impress him.

And she was putting far, far too much thought into this. Annoyed with herself, Kathryn grabbed a bottle of wine and headed for Chakotay's quarters.

"You're right on time," he said approvingly as he ushered her to the table and uncorked the wine. "I admire punctuality in my students."

"What would've happened if I'd been late?" She sipped her wine, smirking at him. "Would you have made me run laps? Do press-ups, maybe?"

"Oh, I'm sure I'd have come up with a suitable punishment." His eyes were warm.

After dinner they took their wine over to the couch. Kathryn curled up with a PADD and started reading through the department heads' reports on ship's stores. Chakotay stretched out beside her, bare feet propped on the coffee table, working through the upcoming month's shift schedule.

She stretched her neck, head tilted to one side, fingers digging into sore shoulder muscles, and Chakotay looked up. "Are you all right?"

"Just a little tight. I guess I didn't stretch out enough."

He placed his PADD on the coffee table. "Turn around."

"Why?"

"So I can get that knot out of your neck before you make it worse."

She sent him a sidelong glance, lashes lowered. "Sports therapy, Commander?"

"I'm a man of many talents."

He took her hand from where it rested on her shoulder, placing it in her lap, and turned her gently, smoothing her ponytail to one side. At the first touch of his warm hand stroking from her ear to the point of her shoulder, she shivered. His fingers probed gently at the tense muscle, and she sighed.

"Your hands are certainly talented," she murmured.

She told herself she wasn't flirting with him. She was just relaxing with her friend.

He leaned forward until his lips almost touched her ear. "Oh, I'm just getting started, Captain."

Kathryn swallowed. She should stop this; she knew it. Instead she tilted her head to one side, and he took the hint, walking his fingers up into her hairline and whispering them back down over the line of her neck. She suppressed a moan.

He smoothed his hands down over her shoulderblades and she let her head drop forward, eyes closing. His thumbs rubbed circles, working the tension away. She felt almost boneless. As his hands moved back up to her shoulders, she sighed, "That feels so good, Chakotay."

His hands stilled for an instant and she heard him draw in a breath. Then he hooked a thumb under the narrow strap of her tank top and dragged it slowly off her shoulder. His fingers played lightly against her collarbone, and she felt the barest touch of his lips against the nape of her neck.

Her eyes snapped open.

Swallowing hard, she forced herself to sound controlled. "Is this part of your experiment, Commander?"

He drew his hands back to her shoulders, fingers moving lightly along the line of her neck. It could, possibly, be interpreted as a therapeutic touch, she mused. She knew it was anything but.

"Physical contact would be an interesting factor to introduce," Chakotay said softly, as though it was only just occurring to him. "I suspect it would prove my theory once and for all."

Kathryn felt his fingers dip lower, stroking over her clavicles.

"What do you think, Dr Janeway?" he murmured in her ear. "Ready to admit you're attracted to me yet?"

Kathryn stiffened, pulling away from him and slipping off the couch to stand glaring at him. "This conversation – and this experiment – are over. Good night, Commander."

She refused to glance back as she stalked over to his door, but she knew he was grinning at her anyway.

=/\=

 **Stardate 49158.0**

"Was it really necessary to hit the Commander so hard, Captain?"

The Doctor's mouth was pursed as he inspected Chakotay's bruised and dislocated jaw.

"Of course, Commander, you only have yourself to blame," he harangued. "Why you must persist in engaging in such a barbaric and archaic sport against all medical advice, not to mention common sense, I will never know. And to have roped the Captain into playing fisticuffs with you …"

Kathryn felt awful, and the EMH's lecture wasn't helping. " _Thank_ you, Doctor," she cut him off sharply. "Perhaps you could concentrate on healing the Commander's injuries?"

Chakotay made to speak, and the Doctor huffed at him angrily.

"Please do not move your jaw, Commander. The healing process is quite delicate, you know."

Chakotay subsided.

"So, Captain, might I ask how you managed to get past the Commander's guard? Despite my disapproval of the sport, I understand he is quite the boxing aficionado."

"Lucky shot," Kathryn muttered. "He was distracted."

And, of course, her deliberate licking of her lips as she arched her back in a stretch just as they'd begun their sparring round had had _nothing_ to do with his distraction… She glanced away from the silent knowledge in Chakotay's eyes.

She still wasn't sure what had possessed her. But after three rounds of sparring, during which he'd tapped her lightly on the chin, abdomen and side of the head any number of times and she'd failed to land a single shot, her competitive ire had been raised. She'd caught him, several times, staring admiringly at her legs in the form-fitting shorts and the way her tank top dipped into her cleavage, and some devil inside had prompted her to press her advantage.

More like punch her advantage. She cringed at the memory. He'd been pulling his punches, of course, and she'd let fly with all the power she could muster. And she'd seriously hurt him.

She had to get out of there.

"Well, if you gentlemen will excuse me, I have work to do. Good night, Commander, and … I apologise."

She took advantage of Chakotay's forced muteness to hurry out of Sickbay before he could protest her skipping out of their working dinner, and returned to her quarters, where she showered, dressed in her uniform, and went to work in her ready room.

She fished the picture of Mark out of the desk drawer where she'd hidden it in a fit of melancholy a week or so earlier, and returned it to its rightful place, front and centre on her desk.


	3. 3 Machinations

**3\. Machinations**

" _When you're a Maquis, you don't always have the luxury of following protocols."_

=/\=

 **Stardate 49177.3**

"How are you feeling?"

Kathryn turned her head, squinting in the bright Sickbay lights. "Like I was half-eviscerated and suspended mid-air by a powerful being."

"So, pretty much as expected then." Chakotay rested a hip against the edge of her biobed.

"Just another day in the Delta quadrant." Kathryn sat up slowly, trying not wince, and swung her legs over the side of the bed. "The Doctor has already released B'Elanna and Tuvok. I believe he was just about to clear me for duty. Right, Doctor?"

The EMH glanced up at her raised voice and made his way to her biobed, unfolding his tricorder. "Hardly, Captain. You've been through a significant physical trauma. Lieutenants Tuvok and Torres are on two days' rest, followed by five days on light duties. As you are neither Vulcan nor half-Klingon, your injuries will take a little longer to heal. I was about to prescribe three days' bed rest and a week of light duties for you."

"But you thought better of it, of course," Kathryn quipped. "I have a lot of work to do, and I feel perfectly fine."

She slipped from the bed, stood upright, and promptly crumpled. She would have hit the floor had Chakotay not stepped in quickly and caught her. She gasped for breath, doubled over, wondering if Suspiria had actually rearranged her internal organs on a permanent basis.

The Doctor rolled his eyes. "Commander, if you would be so kind?"

Chakotay lifted Kathryn in his arms and placed her carefully on the biobed, where she curled on her side and forced herself to breathe.

"As I was saying, Captain," the EMH continued, "you are on medical leave for seventy-two hours. Minimum. Non-negotiable," he added, seeing she'd drawn a still-hesitant breath to protest. "I will, however, allow you to return to your quarters, but only on several conditions."

"And those are?" Kathryn asked tightly.

"One: you rest. And I mean _rest_ , Captain. No catching up on reports, no late-night patrols of the ship, and _definitely_ no sneaking off to the bridge."

"Fine," she muttered tersely. She'd never admit it, but the way she felt right now, all she wanted to do was curl up in bed and sleep for the full three days he'd prescribed.

"Two: you eat regular light and nutritious meals. And no coffee."

"Doctor," she growled.

"No coffee until the day after tomorrow," he amended.

"All right," she snapped. "Is that all?"

"No. My final condition is that you be monitored tonight. You can either wear a cortical device or have someone keep an eye on you. I've repaired the internal bleeding and organ damage Suspiria caused, but there's a significant possibility of complication from the trauma."

Kathryn fixed him with a glare. "I do not need to be babysat."

"It's either that or spend the night here in Sickbay, Captain." The Doctor would not be moved.

Kathryn opened her mouth to argue again, and Chakotay cut in. "I'll take care of her, Doctor."

She turned her glare on him.

"Excellent," the EMH said smoothly. "I'll transport you both directly to the Captain's quarters."

Before she could object, Chakotay gathered her carefully into his arms and nodded to the Doctor. "Energise."

They rematerialised in her living area, Kathryn still scowling. "You can put me down now, Commander," she said stiffly.

Chakotay glanced around. "Couch or bed?"

There was no way she was letting him carry her into her bedroom. "Couch."

He deposited her carefully on the couch and she attempted to arrange the medical gown to cover her knees.

"Are you hungry?" he asked.

"Not particularly."

"I'll make you some soup, then. Vegetable or chicken?"

"Vegetable," she answered tersely.

He ordered it from the replicator and brought the bowl over to the coffee table.

"Thank you. You can go now."

Chakotay raised his eyebrows at her.

"I don't need a damn nursemaid, whatever that officious bundle of photons dictates," she snapped.

"Maybe, maybe not," he said calmly, sitting beside her. "How about a friend?"

She stiffened. "What do you mean?"

Chakotay stretched his legs out, crossed at the ankle. "You went through a pretty harrowing and painful experience," he explained. "We nearly lost Kes, not to mention Tuvok and B'Elanna. And on top of all that, we lost another chance to get home."

Kathryn looked down at her hands, feeling her eyes blur. "Well, when you put it like that…"

"I'm sorry, Captain." Chakotay's voice was gentle as he laid a hand on hers. "I know you were counting on Suspiria helping us. But we'll find another way."

"How can you be so sure?" she asked. "The time-shifted wormhole, the Sikarian transporter … Now this. I'm starting to lose faith, Chakotay. What if it takes us the full seventy-five years to get home? What if we never make it?"

"We will," he said with quiet certainty. "You'll get us there. I haven't lost faith."

She gave him a slightly wavering smile and squeezed his hand. "What would I do without you?"

She saw the change in his eyes at the same time as the feelings she'd been trying to suppress for a while now welled up inside her, and quickly drew her hand back, biting her lip. He shifted away from her on the couch, his gaze breaking away from hers.

At what point had things begun to change between them? she wondered. From almost the day they met, nearly a year ago now, they'd fallen into a light-hearted, teasingly flirtatious friendship. She'd never tried to deny to herself that she found him attractive, but there was the need for command distance, and their mission, and Mark … She had never taken the attraction seriously. She'd just been glad that she and her new XO, who could so easily have been enemies, had become friends.

But something had changed. Was it when he'd started his experiment? She'd recognised the quickly-veiled desire for her in his eyes long before that slightly drunken dinner. They'd always found it difficult to keep their hands off each other; a pat on the chest here, a touch to the small of the back there. And she couldn't deny that he invaded her dreams far more frequently than was comfortable. But that was simple desire; a recognition that they found each other physically appealing. Something that was relatively easy to push aside. And now…

Now, she found herself daydreaming not only of his broad chest and his muscled arms, but of the mellow sound of his voice and the way his eyes sparked when he laughed. She liked to look at him not just because he was easy on the eye, but because the way he looked at her - the way he smiled just for her - made her feel warm inside. She wanted to spend time with him not just because it built their command relationship, but because she came alive in his presence.

And their dinners, the boxing lessons, the teasing flirtation, his 'experiment' – she could have put a stop to all of it before it even started, if she'd really wanted to.

The only conclusion she could draw was that she didn't want to.

And she had to.

Swallowing hard, she pulled her legs up beneath her on the couch and straightened her back. "Well," she said brightly, reaching for the soup, "this looks delicious. Thank you, Commander."

Chakotay sent her a small, sideways smile.

"I was thinking," she went on, sipping at the soup so she could avoid his eye, "maybe I'll ask the Doctor to give me a cortical monitor after all. I'm sure you have plenty to do, and the couch won't be terribly comfortable to sleep on. You don't need to waste your time watching over me."

"It's not a waste of my time," he answered quietly.

"Commander, you don't have to –"

"I want to," he said firmly. "You don't need to worry about anything, Captain. I can work here just as easily as in my quarters or my office. And the couch will be perfectly adequate for a night."

She tried to think of another excuse, but she was so tired, and everything hurt.

And the truth was that she wanted to be looked after, just for a while.

"In fact," Chakotay stood, "I have a few reports I need to run through, so if you'll excuse me for a few minutes I'll go get them while you eat."

Kathryn yielded. "All right."

"Don't go anywhere," he grinned, and left.

She placed the half-eaten bowl of soup on the table and laid her head on the back of the sofa, closing her eyes. In a minute she'd get up, go into her bedroom and change into pyjamas. In a minute …

When Chakotay returned to her quarters he found her fast asleep, her face soft, body relaxed.

"Captain," he whispered, kneeling beside her.

She didn't respond, her breathing slow and even.

"Captain, I think you need to get to bed."

She murmured but didn't wake.

"Hell," he muttered. She couldn't stay on the couch. Aside from the fact that she'd wake up cramped and cold, where was he supposed to sleep?

Sighing, he went into her bedroom to turn down the covers, then returned to the couch and carefully slipped his arms underneath her.

"Sorry about this," he whispered as he lifted her. Her arms wound themselves around his shoulders and she turned her face into his neck with a sigh. Chakotay gritted his teeth and made his way to the bedroom.

He laid her carefully on the bed and made to pull back, but her arms tightened around his neck. She held him closer and mumbled something that sounded like, "Stay."

She turned her face toward him, her lips brushing his.

For a moment he stilled. Then, gently, he reached up and took her hands away from where they'd threaded into his hair, laying them carefully at her sides. He straightened up and tucked the covers over her, then walked away from the bed.

"Computer, lights off," he said softly, and keyed her bedroom door closed.

Inside the room, Kathryn's eyes opened.

 **=/\=**

 **Stardate 49196.2**

Her hands were shaking.

It was ridiculous, really. They'd been unfailingly polite and professional with each other all week, from the moment she woke the morning after he'd stayed in her quarters. He'd been showered, shaved and dressed in uniform, bringing toast and orange juice to the breakfast table as she emerged from her room. He'd reminded her of her appointment with the Doctor later that morning and excused himself to take his bridge shift.

He'd mentioned nothing in regard to her inexcusable behaviour the night before.

In truth, she couldn't exactly remember what had happened. She had a vague memory of strong arms holding her, a stubbled cheek against her own, a feeling of warmth and safety. But when she'd woken, dragging herself from the clouds of fatigue, she was alone.

Alone, with a vague and disquieting sense that she'd done something indefensible.

She couldn't shake the feeling all that day. Chakotay had stopped by after his shift to check on her and make certain she'd eaten properly – she excused herself for the white lie she'd given him on that score – and left with a polite goodnight.

It wasn't until she was lying sleepless in her bed that night that she remembered she'd kissed him.

"Oh, no," she'd muttered into her pillow, scrunching her eyes shut in horror.

But he'd left; she remembered that. Not only had she kissed him, but she'd asked him to stay. And he had tucked her into her bed and left her alone.

Thank God.

Two days later she'd returned to half-shifts on the bridge. Mortified by her actions, she'd sequestered herself in her ready room, claiming the excuse of three days' worth of reports to catch up on. Chakotay had made no comment. When she'd taken the bridge for her full shift yesterday, having badgered the Doctor into giving her a clean bill of health, he'd smiled at her and made friendly conversation, but their usual banter was conspicuously absent.

But then, as she'd been leaving the bridge today, he'd reminded her of their standing arrangement. "Holodeck Two at 1830 hours, Captain," he'd called as she headed for the turbolift. "Unless you're not feeling up to it, of course."

Goaded, she'd retorted that she was fighting fit – literally – and that he'd better be on his toes.

And now, here she was, waiting in the holodeck and fumbling to bind the wraps onto her trembling hands.

She heard the holodeck doors open and refused to look up.

"You're early," Chakotay said as he approached. "Keen?"

"I have cabin fever," she snapped back. "And I have energy to burn, Commander, so watch out."

"Noted. But we'll stick to working on your form today – no sparring."

She opened her mouth to object.

"No sparring," he repeated firmly. "I'm not running the risk of you ending up in Sickbay for overdoing it."

"Fine," she snapped. "Let's get on with it."

Chakotay tugged her gloves on and waved her over to the hanging bag. "Go ahead."

She threw a few hooks, and he stopped her, moving in close behind her with his hands on her hips. Kathryn stiffened.

"You're using your upper body too much. Turn from the hips, remember?"

"I remember," she said tightly.

Chakotay stepped back and watched her form. "Better," he announced after a few minutes.

"Can't we do something a little more challenging?"

Was that a whine in her voice? Chakotay raised his eyebrows. "We could," he answered. "If you really think you're up to it."

"Oh, I think you know by now that I'm up for anything."

Oh, God, what had made her say that? Kathryn busied herself adjusting her glove to hide her burning face.

Chakotay couldn't hide the amusement in his voice as he replied, "Okay then, let's try some grappling."

"And that would be..?"

"Close quarters work." Chakotay stepped up until they were toe-to-toe. "The idea is to use your strength to control your opponent and move them where you want them, so you can take the advantage. In our case – no offence, Captain – the strength advantage is always going to be on my side, not to mention the height advantage. So your goal is to get out of the grappling hold. We'll go slowly at first. Are you ready?"

She gave him a short nod. And then Chakotay moved in close, put his arms around her neck and pulled her against his body.

Acting on instinct, she ducked her shoulder as she twisted in his hold and swept one leg behind his knees. A moment later, Chakotay was flat on his back, grinning up at her.

"Not bad."

He sprang to his feet and immediately closed in, wrapping her in his arms again. She tried the same move, but he shifted his centre of gravity and she ended up tight against his body. She struggled, but he held firm. His arms tightened around her, holding her still. He felt warm and solid against her and without consciously realising it, her struggles slowed and her body softened. She tipped her face up. He was looking down at her and all the playfulness had melted out of his eyes. Kathryn gulped.

Chakotay released her and stepped back. "Nice try," he said, and she thought he sounded a little breathless.

"Maybe we should do some pad work," she stuttered.

"Good idea." Chakotay moved away to collect the pads, and Kathryn closed her eyes and concentrated on steadying her breathing.

Half an hour later she was exhausted and sweaty and her arms felt like limp noodles. "Enough," she gasped, and Chakotay dropped the pads. She pulled off her gloves with a groan. "I guess I'm a little less recovered than I thought."

"Even captains have to know when to quit," he smiled at her. "I'll see you for dinner in my quarters in half an hour."

She should decline; she knew she should.

She didn't.

"Yes, Coach." She gave him a mocking salute and headed for the holodeck doors. And if there was a slight extra sway to her hips as she moved, it didn't mean a thing.

The dinner he'd made was delicious, but Kathryn found she wasn't able to eat much. She picked and shuffled the food on her plate until Chakotay suggested they abandon the table and move to the couch.

"More wine?"

She hesitated, then held out her glass. Chakotay settled next to her on the sofa, dumping a couple of PADDs on the coffee table.

"Do you want A to L or M to Z?"

"Sorry?"

"Crew evaluations." He waved a hand at the PADDs.

Kathryn groaned. "Is it that time already?"

"I'm afraid so."

"Okay, give me A to L," she sighed, then flashed him a grin. "Heaven forbid I miss the chance to evaluate _your_ performance, Commander."

"Ah," he answered, smirking. "But how can you properly evaluate me when you haven't observed all the aspects of my, ah, performance?"

"Oh, I have a very vivid imagination."

"Really." His dimples appeared. "And how exactly do you imagine me performing?"

"With exemplary attention to your duty, of course."

She held out her hand for the PADD. He passed it to her, but held on when she moved her hand back.

She raised an eyebrow. "Are you going to give it to me, Commander?"

"Maybe," he answered, his voice dipping, "if you ask me nicely."

She shifted closer to him, and then closer still. Lowering her eyelashes and leaning in, she breathed, "Oh, please, Chakotay. Give it to me."

He couldn't believe she was taking the flirting this far, but he wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. He angled his head so that their lips were inches apart. "On one condition," he said, the fingers of his free hand toying with the strap of her tank top.

She tipped her face up, so close he could feel her breathing. "And what's that?"

"Admit it."

"Admit what?" Her eyes met his.

His fingers played lightly along the line of her collarbone, and she shivered. When had he started touching her? And why was her hand resting on his thigh?

"Admit that you want me," he murmured, his gaze on her parted lips as he bent infinitesimally closer.

Her breath caught. God, she wanted to kiss him so badly. And really, what would it matter? They were out here for probably the rest of her lives, and Mark was so far away, and Chakotay so close, and she wanted him desperately, she lo-

Wrenching herself backward, Kathryn stumbled off the couch. She'd backed halfway to the door before she managed to speak. "I, um, I'm very tired, and I think I should leave. Thank you for dinner, Commander," and she rushed through the doorway with such haste she almost tripped over her own feet.

 **=/\=**

 **Stardate 49215.7**

The holodeck doors closed behind her with a swish, and Kathryn stopped short just inside.

She was dressed in her usual tank top and leggings and she carried her wrist-wraps in her hands, but she wasn't sure she could do this tonight. She wasn't sure she could act like everything was back to normal, when it so clearly wasn't.

She was so angry with him.

 _I'm putting you on report, in case that means anything anymore_ , she'd said, and she'd seen in his eyes that it did.

And then Seska had dropped her subspace bombshell, and Kathryn had taken one look at Chakotay's face and wanted simultaneously to scream and punch him and pull him into her arms.

 _You're going to be a father_.

Kathryn felt sick. In the space of an instant he'd gone from vigilante to victim, and she just didn't know how to cope with it. Dropping her still-coiled wraps to the floor, she squared up to the bag and punched it bare-handed with all her force, then hissed at the pain.

"Captain?"

She turned. Chakotay stood just inside the doors, where she'd been standing moments ago. He looked subdued, wary.

"Commander." She straightened, rubbing her sore hand.

He took a hesitant step toward her. "Are you all right?" He nodded at her hand.

"Fine," she said shortly, then felt a wave of guilt and sympathy. "How are you?" she asked, softer.

He ducked his head. "Honestly? I'm not sure."

"You've been through quite a bit these past few days." Her tone was neutral, but she stepped a pace or two closer. "If you want to take tonight off, spend some time meditating, I won't hold you to our lesson."

"No," he said immediately. "I don't think being alone right now would help. That is," he hesitated, "unless you'd rather I make myself scarce for a while."

Kathryn tightened her lips. "I'm not sure my company will be of much help to you tonight."

Chakotay met her eyes. "Captain, I'm sorry. I know what I did was wrong, and you have every right to be angry."

"Damn straight I do," she snapped, then turned away to compose herself. "We've already been through this, Commander. You know how I feel. What matters right now is how _you_ feel."

"You mean, about being deceived, beaten to a pulp and having my ex-girlfriend effectively rape me to impregnate herself?"

The sarcasm in his tone made her head whip round. She could see his shoulders were rigid, his fists clenched.

"Maybe I'm not the one who needs to use a punching bag tonight, Commander." Kathryn tipped her head toward the bag. "It might make you feel a little better."

"I don't know what would make me feel better about this." He was glaring at the floor now. "How would you feel, being betrayed by someone you'd trusted, and maybe even loved?"

"How do you _think_ I feel about it, Chakotay?"

His head jerked toward her just as she clapped her hands over her mouth. _Oh God_ , she prayed, _tell me I didn't say that…_

But from the shock in his eyes, she knew there would be no divine intervention. Chakotay took a step toward her.

"Captain?" he asked, quietly.

Kathryn squeezed her eyes shut. Her hands dropped to her sides.

Then she felt him pick one up – the one she'd injured earlier in her fit of pique. His thumb brushed gently over her bruised and swollen knuckles.

"You should get this seen to," he said softly.

"It's nothing," she whispered, her eyes still closed. The touch of his hand was making her tremble. She couldn't seem to gather the courage to look at him.

When he spoke again, his voice came from far too close. "Or," he murmured, raising her hand to his lips, "I could kiss it better."

She felt his lips touch her hand and her breath escaped in a shudder. He turned her hand over, placing feather-light kisses on her fingertips, her palm, the inside of her wrist. Kathryn caught her breath.

"Look at me," he said.

Swallowing hard, she opened her eyes.

He was smiling at her, a full-dimpled smile that made her knees quiver. He dropped a last kiss on her palm, released her wrist, and took her face in both hands.

"So, Dr Janeway," he murmured as he tipped her face upward, "I guess I'll take this as indisputable proof of my theory…"

Then he captured her mouth with his, and the retort she'd half-formed fled her mind altogether as she twined her arms around his neck and, at long last, kissed him back.


End file.
